Draco Malfoy and the Blanket Caper
by Quixotic Cervantes
Summary: Draco Malfoy discovers his blankets missing, and he's determined to get to the bottom of it. Warning: Fluff awaits.


**Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own it or I wouldn't need to write fanfiction.**

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4:13 a.m. 25 December, 2009_

Draco Malfoy woke up freezing. He groaned, burrowing his face into his pillow as though it could stave off the chilling night. Sighing, he blindly felt for his absent comforter, or even the sheet and light blanket that should have been under it.

Finding the rolled fabric tucked behind his legs, he attempted to place them over his body to relieve himself of the cold.

Honestly, he couldn't remember when it had started- this unfortunate loss of heat at random times during the winter months. If he had to pick out when he'd first noticed it, it would be twelve years ago- to the day in fact.

_It had been a cold Christmas day at the Order headquarters, that winter being particularly frigid. Draco had been there for months, hiding from Aurors and Death Eaters alike, and had claimed a "comfort item" of his own- a worn, homemade, Weasley knit blanket._

_Looking back, it was ironic that the red blanket- a symbol of most things he was raised to find distasteful- had been so clearly…his. No one else touched that ratty old blanket, only him._

_Or so he thought._

_That day, he had wanted nothing more than to curl up in the blanket on his bed and have a self-pity party. There was only one problem- he couldn't find the damn thing._

_He'd searched all of the common rooms; even going so far as to dig through Potter and Weasley's things in their joint room. Only to come out empty-handed each time._

_After nearly an hour of, dare he say frantic, searching, he peeked into the girls' room. He had knocked, of course, and received no answer. Looking in, he found the blanket- wrapped around a sleeping Hermione Granger, who seemed to have fallen asleep in an armchair while reading._

_Angrily, he stalked over to her, fully intending to rip the blanket from her, wake her, and tell her off for daring to take it._

_But as he closed in on her sleeping form, he noticed how tired she looked, even in her sleep. There were obvious signs of sleep deprivation from her sagging shoulders to the bruises under her eyes. Despite that, she looked so damn peaceful- like it wasn't a war keeping her up at night but instead fretting about who to take to a dance or an exam she needed to study for._

_He reached out to take the blanket from her, only to find himself adjusting it, tucking it around her body securely, ensuring she would be warm._

It's odd that such a mundane incident would define his life from then on:

It had been her he'd given his cloak to one cold January day. They'd been on a mission and had been ambushed- leaving no time to grab even such a necessity.  
When stuck in a cave, he'd been able to transfigure a blanket and used it to warm her unconscious figure.  
When they'd finally been free to express their intents with the other, her first act had been to take his scarf and parade around in it, leaving his neck exposed to the winter wind. _Though the hickeys I gave her may have influenced that particular theft…_  
When they'd decided to start living together, hardly a morning arrived where Draco still had even a corner of their sheets on his side of the bed.

And so it was that, for twelve years, Hermione Granger had been stealing warmth from Draco Malfoy.

Draco glanced to his side, to the sleeping woman beside him. Eight years ago, Christmas day again, he'd officially asked her out, and six years ago Hermione married him, forever condemning him to having his blankets stolen.

A loud wail shook him from his thoughts. He heard Hermione groan and move out the bed. When she returned, he noticed their daughter was in her arms.

Warmth spread through him as she settle back, their daughter cuddling into her. Next to the little girl laid a blond five-year-old, and beside him a young brunet boy. _My boys_, he thought proudly.

Lying in bed with his three children and wife, he knew nothing better could have happened to him than finding Hermione curled up with his blanket. Because even though she might steal his covers every night, that glowing feeling he got every time he looked at her and their children filled him with enough warmth to make up for it.

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**AN: Wow, I can't believe I wrote something quite this fluffy. If you managed to get through this, good!  
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**I had initially intended to put this out closer to Christmas, but it's officially Christmas season now, right?** **I hope you enjoyed it and happy holidays coming up!  
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